


Not Safe for Work

by Slagathor99



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anniversary, Barebacking, Beefy Bucky Barnes, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Idiots in Love, Lace Panties, M/M, Nude Photos, Panties, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Riding, Sweet Bucky Barnes, Top Steve Rogers, True Love, accidental dick pic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:20:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25396798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slagathor99/pseuds/Slagathor99
Summary: For Steve and Bucky's fourth anniversary, Steve has a perfect gift idea: a sexy pic of himself in lacy underwear that he'll send to Bucky. It's only later, when Bucky frantically calls Steve, that Steve knows he fucked up.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 9
Kudos: 149
Collections: Smut Writing 101: Accidental Dick Pics and Nudes





	Not Safe for Work

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreadlockholiday](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadlockholiday/gifts).



> Hi! Thank you for reading this sweet, smutty oneshot about Bucky and Steve's anniversary. Enjoy!
> 
> Beta-ed by perhaps the sweetest, most talented, funniest person, @dreadlockholiday. They are amazing, and you should DEFINITELY show them some love!

“Happy anniversary,” Steve whispered in Bucky’s ear, arm wrapping around Bucky’s bare chest to squeeze him into a hug. Steve was perched on the edge of the bed, fully dressed, but Bucky was still in his pajamas under the covers, drooling onto his pillowcase.

Bucky groaned sleepily and blindly reached behind himself to wrap one arm around Steve’s slim thigh, hugging him. They slept like that sometimes, Bucky tugging his pillow down the bed so he could be at the level of Steve’s chest because, even though Bucky had a good six inches and a hundred pounds on Steve, he would be the little spoon until the day he died. Really, Bucky just liked being wrapped up by Steve. On mornings when they slept in, Bucky would hook his arm around Steve’s leg and swing it over his own hip, making Steve practically straddle Bucky, just so they could be closer.

Of course, they couldn’t sleep in and cuddle on days like today, when Steve had the opening shift as a barista from five in the morning to noon. Bucky could, though, because his first appointment at the vet clinic -- a check-up with a little pug named Angus whose owner liked to dress in little bows (Bucky had shown Steve pictures last night over dinner) – wasn’t until ten.

“Our reservations are at seven, so you should have plenty of time to close up," Steve said, kissing Bucky’s neck. "Don’t rush or anything, okay? I’m gonna head to work now.”

Given that Bucky was still practically asleep, Steve would probably have to text him a reminder, but Steve didn’t mind. He’d send it to both Bucky’s phones so he’d be sure Bucky got the message.

Because of the client-based nature of being a veterinarian, Bucky needed two phones. He had a personal phone -- which Bucky mainly used to plan hangouts with his friends, text Steve memes, and order craft beer online -- and a work phone -- which served to schedule appointments and show Steve pictures of animals Bucky had been working with that day. The contacts for each were saved next to one another in Steve’s phone, one with heart emojis and the other with dog emojis, so that Steve could easily differentiate them.

“Stay. I’ll miss you,” Bucky grumbled, tugging on Steve’s leg so that he wound up sprawled on top of him.

Steve laughed at how Bucky, even half-asleep, could still manhandle him. “I’ll miss you too, baby. But I’ll see you in, like, less than twelve hours, okay? I don’t wanna be late,” Steve kissed Bucky’s stubbly cheek and pushed himself back into a sitting position on the foot of the bed.

Bucky pushed himself up, too, and leaned forward to kiss Steve, quick but warm and sweet all the same. His hair was sticking up in all directions, and his striped pajama pants were tangled in the sheets. Steve didn’t even mind Bucky’s morning breath, he looked so sweet.

“I love you. Have a great day at work. Happy anniversary,” Bucky said as he pulled back and flopped down on his pillow.

Steve grinned like an idiot as he watched Bucky resituate himself under the covers, tugging them up so only his rat’s nest of hair was visible. Bucky, in stark contrast to Steve, had never been a morning person. He  _ hated _ mornings, in fact. Steve was half-sure the only reason Bucky had asked Steve out in the first place was because Steve was a barista, and thus he had a direct line to coffee at all times of day.

However, Bucky’s love for sleeping in was working to Steve’s advantage today. It had given him the opportunity to slip into the bathroom and change into his anniversary outfit without Bucky noticing. On the surface, there was only one little change; in addition to Steve’s usual outfit of black skinny jeans, a loose black T-shirt that at one point had probably been Bucky’s, and a green apron, Steve had added a little heart-shaped rainbow pin. Underneath it, though, the outfit was decidedly  _ not _ Steve’s usual; a pair of deep red, almost purple, lacy panties that he’d bought online the week prior were hugging his ass and crotch almost delicately.

Bucky always had a thing for Steve in his uniform and Steve in pretty underwear, and combining the two would be the perfect anniversary gift. 

Steve has hatched this genius plan last week, while Bucky was talking to a client on the phone about their cat throwing up all over the house. In addition to the collection of scented candles, the Lush bath bomb sample box, and the vintage  _ Star Wars _ poster he had already gotten for Bucky, Steve wanted to give him one more present: a picture of himself in his brand new panties and apron, which he would take at the bathroom at work and then send to Bucky.

Neither of them were really exhibitionists, but the idea of Steve being at  _ work _ all trussed up for Bucky  _ did it _ for Steve, and, given their long history of having pretty much the exact same turn-ons, Steve was pretty sure that Bucky would feel the same way. Steve working to earn enough money to pay for their car insurance and Bucky’s Godiva truffle habit, but simultaneously being all dressed up just for Bucky? That would be, and was, hot as hell.

Steve would send the picture to Bucky’s personal phone, which he kept locked in his car during the day, so Bucky wouldn’t get distracted while he was working. Once he would be heading home and checking his phone in the parking lot, though, he would see the time stamp on the message and realise that Steve had  _ sent him a picture of his panty-clad ass in the middle of the work day. _ Steve had it all planned out, including what pose to use to accentuate his round ass, what message to send with it down to the emojis, and how to greet Bucky at the door when he got home from work.

It was going to be perfect. Plus, this way, Steve had four presents for Bucky, one for each year that they had been together. Bucky was going to love it.

Of course, he’d love it more if Steve stopped moving the bed and let Bucky sleep. “I love you, too. I’ll see you soon, baby.” Steve paused to plant one more kiss to Bucky’s hair. “You have a good day at work. Happy anniversary!”

With that, Steve spun out the door, a smile splitting his face as he thought about how nice his surprise for Bucky was going to be.

* * *

“Jesus  _ Christ,” _ Steve muttered to himself, trying to tilt his hips back further without tearing something in his back. It turned out the bathroom at work was  _ not _ the best place in the world in which to take a sexy picture. Steve had already had to scrub the mirror to get any odd water droplets off it, brush his hair furiously with his fingers because he’d been busy and it had gotten all floppy with sweat, and now he was contorting himself painfully and trying to take a picture all at the same time.

He only had three minutes left on his break, and he still hadn’t gotten one usable photo. In every single one, he either had a double chin, or the scar from his spinal surgery caught the light the wrong way and looked even gnarlier than it usually did, or the straps of his apron weren’t visible enough to make it clear that he was wearing it. Steve knew Bucky would love it pretty much no matter what, would think Steve was beautiful no matter what, but  _ still, _ Steve wanted it to be impeccable.

It would totally be fine if he didn’t look  _ perfect, _ Steve reasoned. Literally a month after starting to date, Steve had gotten his wisdom teeth out. As the stupidly kind person Bucky was, and someone with, albeit limited, medical experience (he’d dropped out of med school and switched to being a vet after six months in the program), Bucky had volunteered to take care of Steve. Steve had been a little bit of a mess, and hadn’t looked hot at all, but that had been when Bucky said he loved Steve for the first time. So, Bucky would probably be fine with Steve having a double chin in his nudie pic.

However,  _ Steve _ wouldn’t be fine with Steve having a double chin, so he’d have to retake it. Again. If Bucky was ever to look through these photos before Steve remembered to delete them, he would laugh at Steve for days.

Steve hitched his hips back once again. He would have leaned them on the sink – a total cheater move to get the illusion of a round ass, but, despite Steve and his coworkers doing their best to keep the space clean, it was still a public bathroom. No one really knew what people could have done at that sink, and Steve wasn’t about to get that shit on his nice raspberry-colored lace panties.

Instead, he arched his hips back, extended his neck like a particularly indignant swan, and tried to look lasciviously over his shoulder. He snapped the picture and relaxed, hunching over himself as he checked it. It still wasn’t working: his eyes, instead of being sexily heavy-lidded, just looked like he had caught himself blinking.

Steve shook his head and was about to try again when his phone buzzed in his hand. He checked it hurriedly. It was a text from Bucky: a picture of the little pug, Angus, that he was giving a check-up to this morning.

The pug had a blue bow wrapped around his neck and his tongue lolling out of his mouth, gaze tilted to the side. Steve noticed happily that Bucky had put the special laminated sign Steve had drawn for the office next to the dog. It said “I’m healthy!” in Steve’s best calligraphy and was decorated with little paw prints and stars and rainbows. It was definitely cheesy, but Bucky loved it and insisted on photographing all of his patients with it after their check-ups.

Suddenly, it was like all the tension and stress of getting a perfect picture just melted right out of Steve. His boyfriend loved him, and was sending him pictures of sweet animals to prove it. God, Steve was lucky.

The caption to Bucky’s text was just a bunch of smiley emojis, and Steve felt himself beam at his phone as if Bucky was right there. Steve knew he looked like a lovesick idiot, cheeks pink and lips perked up in the smallest of smiles, eyes round and full of affection. Bucky was sending Steve pictures of dogs just because he knew they made Steve happy. How could Steve  _ not _ look like a lovesick idiot?

That look went away quickly, though, because suddenly Natasha, Steve’s favorite co-worker, was banging her hand against the closed bathroom door. “Steve! Wipe your ass! The drive-thru just got slammed, and I need to pee, so you need to get back from break!”

Steve chuckled in spite of himself. “One sec,” he called back.

Natasha groaned, and Steve could practically see her eyes roll. “I’m gonna pee on you, Steve, I swear to God!”

Steve exhaled, resolute. He just needed to snap one okay photo and send it to Bucky. It didn’t even need to be good, just okay.

Steve angled his hips back one more time, swallowed, and clicked the button. His back had a weird fat roll in it, but his chin looked normal, his ass looked good, and you could clearly see the straps of his apron. It would have to do.

Steve scrambled to send the message, opening up his text thread to Bucky and sending it, his fingers flying over the keys as he hurriedly typed, “All for you. Happy anniversary!” and added the appropriate number of heart, peach, and eggplant emojis.

Then, he grabbed his shirt off from where he’d hung it on the paper towel dispenser, tugged it on, slithered into his pants and buttoned them rapidly, and re-tied his apron as he walked back into the kitchen area. He hoped Bucky would like the picture, but he didn’t have enough time to agonize over it because Nat was right; they really were slammed. Steve needed to focus.

* * *

“Have a great day, ma’am,” Steve said, leaning out the drive-thru window to pass a drink to a woman with a terrible perm, but a nice smile.

The woman grinned at Steve and drove off, and Steve relaxed momentarily against the counter. He only had twenty minutes left in his shift, and only  _ now _ was the rush cooling down. It was an exhausting job, but Steve wouldn’t trade it for the world; where else would he get to always smell like roasting coffee, meet people (and their pets), and work with some of his best friends?

“Hey, Steve,” Natasha called from the little employee break area. It was really just a folding chair and a couple of huge buckets of extra roasting beans, but it was cozy. Plus, Steve had made a little cardboard sign on which he’d doodled “Break Area” and some crude stick figures lounging around and smoking a blunt. (They took the sign down when their manager came in.)

“Yeah?” Steve replied, stretching his arms above his head. He couldn’t wait to get home and take a long bath before his and Bucky’s date. Maybe he could take a second one after the date too, and ask Bucky to rub his back and wash his hair for him. Steve would always swear up and down that Bucky had missed his calling as a masseuse. As good as he was at being a vet and as much as he loved it, Bucky had absolutely magic fingers whose power was being sadly hidden from the world.

“Your phone’s been ringing off the hook. You have like twenty missed calls from Bucky.”

Steve’s eyes widened, and he felt himself grow cold all over. Bucky usually never called during the day, only texted. The last time he’d called was because he’d gotten a flat tire and couldn’t get home, and even then he’d only called once. Was Bucky okay? Was he hurt? Did a dog bite him or something?

Steve strode into the break room, his brow creased with concern. He grabbed his phone off the counter, heart pounding, and swiped to answer it. “Bucky? Sweetheart, are you okay?” Steve asked. His palms were sweating and he wiped them on his jeans nervously.

“Hey, babe. Everything’s fine.” He sounded fine, but his breaths were coming in quick, and that made Steve worry. Was he having a panic attack? He hadn’t had one at work before, but there could always be a first time.

“Why’d you call so many times? Do you need me? I can get there in maybe half an hour after my shift.” Steve walked out of the breakroom and leaned against a counter. “I can leave now if you need me, though.” Bucky usually just wanted cuddles when he got anxious. Steve could do that; Bucky just needed to tell him what was wrong.

“I’m fine, Steve. I just don’t have any blood left in my head,” Bucky said, like that explained everything.

Did he have a head injury? Steve’s eyebrows shot to his hairline.

“Did you hit your head, love? Why don’t you have blood in your head?” Steve stood up straighter, about to grab his coat and head out, heart pounding. If Bucky had hit his head, he needed someone there. He had a terrible habit of sending his staff home early if they wanted, especially on Fridays, so he might be alone and in pain.

“No, no, I’m fine. I was making a joke.” Bucky’s voice was harried, worried. Steve’s poor baby. “I don’t have any blood in my head ‘c-cause it’s all in my dick. Get it?”

Steve leaned his forehead against his hand, utterly confused. “What?”

“From the pic you sent me. Shit, Stevie, I knew you were beautiful, but  _ fuck, _ that ass should be  _ illegal.” _

“You’re not hurt?” Steve felt relief, sudden and sweet like a fifty pound brick had been lifted off his spine.

“No, sweetie, no. I’m fine. Just incredibly turned on.”

Steve sighed with relief and annoyance. Bucky was an idiot, but at least he was safe. “Jesus  _ Christ, _ Bucky! Don’t do that to me! I have heart problems, goddamnit.” Steve thanked God the shop was empty, because he was fully screaming, his insides burning with adrenaline. “You called me for phone sex but first you had to make me think you were dying? Who does that?”

Steve’s shout made Nat poke her head out of the break room, eyes wide. Steve chuckled and shook his head, covering the receiver and mouthing “Bucky.” Natasha just stuck her tongue out in disgust, plugged her ears, and ducked back into the room.

Bucky, meanwhile, was laughing hysterically. “Sorry, baby, I just . . .  _ wow. _ When did you get those panties?”

Steve felt his panic ebb away slowly, replaced with a warm, throbby, proud feeling that he got whenever he  _ really _ turned Bucky on. 

It was just like when they’d had penetrative sex for the first time, and Bucky had slumped over Steve’s lap for half an hour afterwards, holding Steve’s hand and rubbing his own cheek against Steve’s thigh. Or when Steve bought his first set of panties, a lavender pair of lacy boyshorts that made Bucky come untouched and ended up ruined less than a week later. Or when Steve bottomed for the first time and Bucky lasted for maybe three thrusts before he shoved his face against Steve’s collarbone as come dripped down the insides of Steve’s thighs. The best time, though, was probably when Steve had drawn Bucky jerking off for the first time, maybe six months into their relationship. Bucky had immediately flushed crimson when Steve had shown him the drawing, and he’d buried his face into Steve’s belly, panting for nearly twenty minutes until he had recovered enough to whisper an amazed “wow.”

Even though he was shocked, Steve realized he was blushing. At least the picture made Bucky happy and turned on, despite nearly giving Steve a heart attack. Bucky must have checked his phone early, or maybe he’d gone out for an early lunch or something.

“And on my  _ work _ phone. Shit, Stevie. I was in the middle of a check-up, and I just about  _ died.” _

“Wait. Your work phone?”

“Yeah. I thought that was the whole point, like a ‘happy anniversary’ in the middle of the day.” Bucky sounded honestly confused.

Steve felt all the flushed color drain out of his cheeks. He didn't mean to do that, but he had been in such a rush that he must have sent it to the wrong phone by accident. Which was bad. Very bad. Bucky was a professional. He had clients to serve and an image to maintain, which would be ruined if they saw Bucky’s boyfriend sending him pictures of himself in  _ panties. _

Bucky had a credibility to preserve, and if his credibility was ruined (like by his boyfriend sending him a nudie pic, for example), his job would be too. Bucky had just opened his own clinic last year. If they lost business because people didn’t want to send their pets to a pervert, the clinic would get shut down and Bucky would be inconsolable. He poured his heart and soul into that place.

Bucky’s whole life was being a veterinarian. He’d put off moving in with Steve until his own credit was good enough to afford loans to buy both a house and a clinic. Steve had helped Bucky paint the whole space soothing shades of gray and purple and pick out furniture. Steve even helped Bucky make dog treats on weekends to hand out. The clinic was Bucky’s pride and joy, and Steve might have ruined it because he was too busy to make sure he was sending a nude to the proper number.

More selfishly, Steve might have screwed himself over, too. Bucky was their primary source of income -- if he was out of work, they’d only be able to subsist off of Steve’s barista salary for maybe a month or two before they ran out of savings. They’d have to sell the house they’d just moved into a few months ago, and all the cute knick-knacks Steve had gotten to line the mantel.

“Oh,  _ shit, _ Buck. I meant to send that to your personal phone. Oh, God, that’s so unprofessional of me.”

“Maybe, Steve, but  _ shit, _ it was fucking hot as hell, baby. I rescheduled my appointment this afternoon so I can see you sooner. I can’t wait to get home and ride you until I’m shaking.”

Blood was starting to rush to Steve’s cock at the suggestion, but he resolutely ignored it. Steve might have fucked Bucky over professionally; his dick could take a backseat for now. Plus, a fake doorbell sound had just rung out; a customer had just opened the door, and a quick glance behind himself showed Steve that Nat was already working on a drive-thru order. Steve had to go even though he might have just royally fucked up.

“I gotta go, Bucky. Can we talk about this when you get home?”

“Yeah, sweetheart, that’s fine. I love you.” Bucky genuinely didn’t sound upset, but Steve himself felt awful. That was his baby’s whole  _ life, _ and Steve had been so unthinking about it.

Steve exhaled shakily. “Love you too.”

Steve clicked his phone off, pocketed it, and turned his attention to the customer while he smiled with fake cheer.

* * *

Half an hour later, after his shift, Steve opened the front door to their little one-story house. He was ready to collapse onto the couch with a bucket of mint chip ice cream until Bucky got home and they talked this out. He felt like an inconsiderate dick.

Bucky was never inconsiderate. On days he had to work late, he would even make Steve dinner the night before so that Steve could just microwave it, because Steve was a shit cook and Bucky didn’t want him to starve. He texted Steve pictures of his patients because they made Steve happy. He shelled out extra money for a nice mattress for Steve’s back. He did the dishes  _ and _ cooked. Meanwhile, Steve was just a pigheaded idiot who couldn’t even bother to send a nude to the correct number. 

Steve wanted to make Bucky feel good, not hurt him like he most definitely did by sending the picture. Even when Steve crushed Bucky at Mario-Kart because Bucky was shit at it, Steve would apologize profusely and stroke Bucky’s hair for fifteen minutes. Bucky wasn’t even a sore loser, but Steve did that anyway. This, though, was a whole other level of making Bucky feel bad, one that was making Steve want to cry.

Bucky deserved better, someone who was more thoughtful.

He couldn’t get that thought out of his head, even when Natasha had sent him home with a giant carafe of Bucky’s favorite cold brew for their anniversary.

He couldn’t believe he didn’t even bother to try to be careful about something as potentially delicate as nudes.

“Stevie?”

Steve looked up from where he was dumping his keys into the little ceramic bowl Bucky had found at a garage sale.

Bucky was standing in the hallway, changed out of his work clothes and into a pair of loose sweatpants and a T-shirt with a sleeping cat on it. He was frowning, concerned.

Even just seeing Bucky made the guilt in Steve’s chest rise and his throat grow tight.

“Why are you home so early? It’s barely one,” Steve asked, turning away from Bucky as if that would help ease the discomfort in his very soul. Steve set down the carafe on the ground next to the front door and shrugged off his coat just to avoid looking at Bucky. That was making it hurt worse, though, so Steve forced himself to look up. Bucky’s eyes, always huge, looked worried.

“Came home early for our anniversary. I told you on the phone.” Bucky flushed and opened his mouth to say something else before closing it and adding softly, “Is everything okay? You sounded so upset.”

Before Steve could say anything, Bucky was striding over and hugging him tightly. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky’s waist, head buried in Bucky’s chest. Bucky made a soft sound, running his hands up and down Steve’s shoulders and arms and waist. Bucky smelled like the lemon disinfectant he used at the office and a little bit like his cinnamon shampoo. It shouldn’t have smelled good, but it did. Steve was pretty sure it was a Pavlovian reaction, given that he liked anything that reminded him of Bucky.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said into Bucky’s chest. “I was crazy inconsiderate. I thought it would be sexy, but it was just stupid.  _ I _ was stupid.”

Bucky squeezed Steve against his torso even tighter, somehow. “How is a picture of you looking gorgeous stupid?” he asked, voice gentle.

“What if a customer saw it? They’d think we're weird and unprofessional, and they’d never come back, and then they’d tell other people, and you’d be out of business. You worked so hard for that place, Buck. I don’t want to ruin it because I couldn’t take thirty seconds to make sure I was sending a text to your personal phone.” The words came out in a big rush, and Steve hardly realized he was saying them until he felt Bucky’s lips on the crown of his head, planting gentle, slow kisses.

Bucky sighed a long, slow breath. Steve could feel his chest rise and fall against his cheek, and it felt so nice. God, Steve loved him. He wanted to feel that chest rise and fall forever and ever and ever, until there were no stars in the sky and the sun burned out and the Earth went to shit (well, more than it already had).

“Let’s talk about this, okay?”

Steve nodded against Bucky’s sternum. Bucky always knew just what Steve needed all the time, but  _ especially _ when Steve was upset.

“First of all, no one saw it. I opened the phone, saw the picture, blushed down to my toes, and then closed the phone. I’m a professional, Stevie. My ridiculously hot boyfriend isn’t going to distract me from doing my job.” Bucky’s voice was as firm as was his grip on Steve. He was unrelenting and serious and loving.

“I know,” Steve sighed. “It was just inconsiderate of me and I feel awful about that.”

Bucky made a quiet, sweet sound and squeezed Steve tighter.

“Second, I appreciate you so much, Steve. The fact that you care enough about me to send me nudes and then have the gall to feel bad about it is so sweet. And, sure, it was an accident, but it doesn’t mean you were inconsiderate.”

Steve nodded again, but this time it was more just to rub his cheek against Bucky. “But you’re always thoughtful, and I just wasn’t thinking at all.”

Steve felt Bucky tense and his hands still on Steve’s back. “It’s okay to make mistakes, Steve. I’m not always thoughtful myself, not at all. I washed that red shirt with your white underwear just last week, remember?”

Steve laughed against Bucky. That was true. Steve hadn’t minded, but Bucky had felt terrible. Steve must have kissed Bucky upwards of two hundred times that day just to tell him that it was  _ fine. _ As Bucky’s hands started to work into the muscles under Steve’s shoulders where he carried most of the tension, Steve absently realized that Bucky was doing the same thing Steve had that time. Bucky was just hugging and reassuring Steve. Nothing bad had happened.

“It was a happy accident, yeah?” Bucky said, rubbing a particularly tight knot under Steve’s shoulder blade.

Steve huffed a laugh at Bucky’s invocation of Bob Ross. Trust Bucky to know all of Steve’s soft spots. “I guess so,” Steve relented.

That made Bucky smile. Steve couldn’t see it with how his head was angled, but he could hear it in Bucky’s voice when he added, “That’s okay, though. Mistakes happen sometimes, and I love you no matter what.” Bucky punctuated his sentence with a firm kiss to the top of Steve’s head, leaving no room for argument.

“Me too.” Steve kissed Bucky’s sternum and added, “I’m still sorry, though.”

Bucky rested his cheek on the top of Steve’s head and exhaled slowly. Steve liked that he was exactly the right height for this. Normally, he hated being small, but he loved it when Bucky was hugging him. They fit together like puzzle pieces, Steve’s arms around Bucky’s waist, his head over Bucky’s heart, their hands laced together. Steve couldn’t believe he’d run the risk of hurting the guy who was his matching puzzle piece.

“I  _ did _ bring you a carafe of cold brew, though, so it’s really net zero,” Steve teased, standing on his tiptoes to kiss Bucky’s stubbly cheek.

Bucky chuckled at that, warm and full all down his belly and against Steve’s chest. It made him beam against Bucky’s pec. “Cold brew? All is forgiven,” Bucky replied.

Steve felt himself grow a little more snug inside, happy that he made Bucky laugh even though Bucky was upset. “But I  _ am _ sorry, Bucky. You’re my ride-or-die. You know that. I never wanna hurt you, and I’m so, so sorry that I almost did.” Steve punctuated his point by rubbing Bucky’s shoulder where he always carried tension. Whenever Steve rubbed there, Bucky was a  _ goner. _

Steve loved that he and Bucky just  _ knew _ each other’s spots, knew exactly where to touch to soothe the other. Bucky had been rubbing at Steve’s back for maybe a minute, and he already felt loose, and Bucky was starting to relax into Steve’s ministrations, too. Steve wouldn’t trade the feeling of knowing each other better than anyone else for the world.

“I love you, Steve. Thank you for apologizing.” Bucky leaned into Steve’s touch, and Steve’s insides felt fuller, more stable. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Yeah,” Steve said. “I am. Can I kiss you? I missed you today.”

“Please.”

Bucky bent down and closed the short gap between them. His lips were soft and Steve could taste his mint chapstick on them. Steve leaned up on his tiptoes and started rubbing the strong muscles in Bucky’s back through his buttery yellow T-shirt with more intent and care than he had been previously.

The kiss brought Steve a little closer to Bucky, and he could feel Bucky against his hip. Not hard, not yet, but definitely interested. Maybe he really  _ had _ liked the picture.

Bucky gently pulled back and looked at Steve with a faint glow in his eyes. “Third thing: did you have a good day? Other than the end of it, I mean. Nothing hurting or aching or anything?”

Steve leaned forward again and sighed into Bucky’s chest. Bucky asked this whenever Steve got home from work, ever-conscious of his health issues. “It was good. We were busy, which was stressful, but it was good. A woman liked my heart pin.”

Steve could feel Bucky smile against his hair. “That’s great, baby. Physically, you’re all good?”

Steve butted his head lightly against Bucky’s sternum. For all the guy was a whiny bottom who liked to be spooned, Bucky could be overprotective sometimes. Steve didn’t mind too much. It was just Bucky’s way of expressing how much he loved Steve.

“I’m all good. Promise. I wore comfy sneakers and everything.”

That made Bucky plant another kiss, right on Steve’s forehead. “Okay, then fourth thing: you feeling up to having some fun before our reservations? You were wearing your  _ apron _ in the photo, Steve.  _ Fuck.” _

Steve flushed. He nearly forgot that the whole point of the picture was to rile Bucky up. But now that Bucky was chomping at the proverbial bit, Steve couldn’t help but feel proud. He hit his best guy’s buttons. Steve  _ knew _ Bucky would like the apron, and the confirmation of that fact had Steve practically glowing.

“I could be amenable to that,” Steve said. Even Bucky’s light inquiry was getting Steve interested. Despite the fact that taking the picture itself was one of the least sexy actions Steve had ever put himself through, he couldn’t deny the results were more than good. He and Bucky had never been the nude-photo-leading-to-phone-sex kind of couple, but maybe they could be. Bucky certainly seemed to enjoy the course of action. Besides, Steve would happily contort himself again if it got Bucky hard.

“I’d love to see those panties in action. My dick hasn’t gone soft since you sent the pic,” Bucky added in a low, sultry tone. His voice had dropped half an octave between his check-in with Steve and this confession. Steve attributed that to Bucky jumping from his “my baby’s upset” voice to his “give me dick  _ now” _ voice. Steve wasn’t sure which he liked more.

Steve nodded mutely, feeling himself start to swell uncomfortably in his skinny jeans. Bucky just telling Steve what he needed left Steve speechless, utterly overcome by thoughts of  _ Bucky. _

Steve couldn't think of practically anything else  _ but _ jumping Bucky’s bones right then. Still, though, he was covered in sweat and toffee syrup and had been up since four thirty in the morning. “How about I take a shower, and then we have some fun with them?”

Bucky was smirking, and Steve’s heart jumped. “Better idea,” Bucky said, his hands coming to fall on top of Steve’s back pockets. He paused there, quirking an eyebrow until Steve nodded with permission, and then slid his hands into them, cupping Steve’s ass. His hands were warm and broad, even through the pants, and Steve could feel the pit of his stomach begin to fill with a sweet, hot feeling, like syrup somebody had dumped cayenne pepper into.

“How about I join you in the shower and suck you off, make you feel nice and good, and then you get those panties back on?  _ Then, _ you can fuck me into the mattress with the panties still on, just your gorgeous cock out, just for me. Sound good?” Bucky’s voice was somehow even lower, gravelly now.

Steve had to swallow a whimper at how fast blood rushed between his legs. He had been completely soft not five minutes ago, and now he was nearly fit to pound nails with just two sentences from Bucky.  _ God, _ Steve loved him.

Bucky had a way of doing that, of asking for consent and what he wanted by way of dirty talk, and it never failed to send trails of excited, longing goosebumps down Steve’s skin. He could do it for everything, from asking Steve if he was riding him at an okay pace (“This good, baby? Fast enough to make you come in me, leave me dripping, baby? Slow so that it can last as long as you want?”) to asking Steve if he’d pull Bucky’s hair (“Let me know you’re in me, that you have me. Just grab it, honey, it’s okay, promise. Feels so  _ good!”). _

Steve shivered. “Yeah, Buck. We can make that work.”

Bucky smiled, broad and bright like he wasn’t asking to get dicked down, and gently extricated himself from Steve. “Shall we?” he asked, holding his hand out to take Steve to their bathroom.

Steve followed him, padding to their bedroom and the adjacent bathroom. Bucky and Steve had painted the room together when they’d first moved in, and it wasn’t perfect but the slightly streaky green walls and cream trim were home, and they made Steve smile every time he saw them.

Bucky was already stripping out of his yellow shirt, tossing it carelessly to the side. Steve couldn’t help but watch the powerful muscles of his pale back. No matter how often Steve got the treat of seeing Bucky naked, he could never, ever get enough. It didn’t matter that Bucky always slept shirtless, or that they showered together more often than they didn’t. It was just getting to look at Bucky that was so astounding to Steve.

It was even better when Bucky slid his sweats and pink boxers off in one go, his round ass on display. God, Bucky was beautiful there, round like a peach, but muscled and firm. Steve loved to grab Bucky’s ass and squeeze it. Bucky was horribly sensitive there, and it made him giggle and squirm even as he asked for more.

Steve was hardly aware of himself stalking over, still fully dressed down to his striped pink socks, and hugging Bucky from behind.

Bucky jumped a little, startled, before relaxing into the touch and reaching with his hand behind himself to rub Steve’s back. “Thank you for being you,” Steve whispered.

“Back at ya, babe,” Bucky replied easily.

Bucky was so pretty and easy-going, even when Steve had been absolutely down in the dumps not five minutes previous. Steve wanted to be with this man forever. “You’re my  _ boyfriend,” _ Steve mumbled reverently into Bucky’s back. “I’m so lucky, fuck, Bucky.”

“Same here, Stevie. Happy anniversary.” Bucky was laughing a little, clearly just a bit overwhelmed by Steve’s gushing.

“You’re so  _ pretty. _ Wanna fuck you so bad,” Steve murmured, rubbing his still-hard cock against the back of Bucky’s thigh through his own jeans, just for a little relief. It didn’t feel great, obviously, what with the layers of fabric and everything, but it was Bucky, so it was good. Steve could feel Bucky’s toned hamstrings through the action, and he was about ready to get inside him already.

“Can I tell you something?” Bucky asked quietly.

“‘Course,” Steve replied, halting his grinding and instead kissing each of Bucky’s shoulder blades sweet and slow.

“I, um, stretched myself out before you got home. Couldn’t help it, not with that  _ picture, _ Steve,  _ fuck. _ I just want you in me so bad.” Steve leaned back, could see the tips of Bucky’s ears turning red.

That wouldn’t do. Bucky should _never_ be embarrassed about feeling good. Especially if he was feeling good because of _Steve._ _Especially_ if it was because Steve had sent him a nude and was inclined to send more. Steve tried to convey this by hugging Bucky tight around the middle with one hand, the other wandering down to Bucky’s happy trail, resting against the surprisingly soft hair.

“I’m gonna touch you baby, okay?” Steve said, angling his head so he could see Bucky’s expression and make sure he was okay with the course of action.

Bucky nodded and licked his lips. “Please.”

Steve smiled and wrapped his hand around Bucky’s cock. No cocks were really  _ beautiful, _ but Bucky’s came as close as one could. Around five and a half inches, cut, curved to the left, and it turned a  _ magnificent _ shade of crimson when Bucky was close. Steve’s hand was just the right size to wrap around it comfortably when Bucky was fully hard.

Now, he was about halfway there, and Steve intended to help him along, giving him a small squeeze. Steve didn’t begin to rub up and down yet, though, because the lube was all the way in Bucky’s bedside drawer, and while Steve was not at all going to leave and go get it, he also wasn’t about to give his best guy a dry handjob and hurt him. So, instead, he just held Bucky’s shaft, not loosely, but not punishingly tight either.

The contact was making Steve’s own cock start to  _ throb. _ The grinding against Bucky hadn’t been enough to really calm him down, not really. Suddenly the sweat and toffee syrup didn’t matter too much.

“I think we should have a change in plans,” Steve murmured, giving Bucky another squeeze. A drop of precome began to dribble out of Bucky’s tip, and Steve smiled. His baby was feeling good all because of _him,_ _his_ nude, _his_ rubbing, _his_ squeezing. Perfect for _Steve._ _“I_ think that instead of showering, we should just have some fun right here, and then shower after. I mean, we’re gonna get dirtied up anyway. That sound good, sweetheart?”

Steve was trying his best to play at Bucky’s game of asking for consent while still being impossibly sexy. Judging from the way Bucky gave a full body shiver and his cock began to firm up further under Steve’s hand, it was working.

Bucky nodded mutely, his back stiff against Steve’s chest. Bucky had an awful habit of tensing up when he was turned on, and it had led to more than a few charlie horses in the past that Steve had had to rub out for him before they could continue on. Steve kissed his bicep twice, chaste and calm. “Relax, baby, it’s okay. Just me. Okay?”

Bucky took a deep breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.

“Good job, sweetheart. Proud of you,” Steve praised, kissing his spine. “I just have one question.” Steve paused and squeezed Bucky’s cock, now nearly fully hard, smirking at the way Bucky’s hips spasmed at the touch. “Do you wanna ride me or get pounded into the mattress? You said one on the phone and one just now, so forgive me if I’m confused.”

Bucky made a choked whimpering noise and tensed up again. He was already panting, and Steve noticed that he was starting to sweat, just a little bit, on the back of his neck. Steve rubbed his free hand over Bucky’s belly, trying to soothe him. He wanted Bucky to get hard, not start convulsing.

“C-can I ride you now? And you pound me into the mattress after dinner, maybe?” Bucky asked, his voice wavering.

Steve smiled devilishly and squeezed Bucky’s shaft again, almost a reward for answering. “Ambitious, are we?”

Bucky turned as much as he could in Steve’s grasp and looked over his shoulder at Steve. Bucky was flushed down to his sternum, the color high on his cheeks almost like he had a fever. “Please?” His voice broke in the middle, and Steve felt his insides  _ melt. _

Steve had barely done anything, and here Bucky was, coming apart for him at the seams. “Yeah, Bucky,” Steve said reassuringly, rubbing his free hand over the hot skin on Bucky’s chest while avoiding his nipples. This was a touch meant to relax, not to arouse. “Sounds great.”

“Soon, please.” Bucky’s eyes were already going glassy, his lips parted and red from being bitten.

“Sounds like a plan, stud.” Steve gave Bucky’s cock one more squeeze and then untangled himself from him, going over to the nightstand to grab the Costco-jumbo-sized lube pump bottle that they went through once every couple of months.

Steve took a minute to study Bucky’s body from his new angle by the nightstand. His hands were clenching and unclenching by his sides. His flush was deepening, and his hair was getting in his face. Steve reminded himself to make sure Bucky put it in a ponytail before they fucked; whenever it got tangled during sex, Bucky made Steve brush it out, claiming that it was Steve’s fault it was tangled in the first place. Bucky was painfully tender-headed, so it sucked for both of them since Steve hated hurting him and Bucky hated being hurt.

Other than his hair, though, Bucky looked  _ good.  _ Not that his hair looked bad -- it was just messy. He was breathing steadily, and his taut abdomen looked good as ever. When Steve  _ really _ felt like riling Bucky up, he liked to lick the little indents there because it made Bucky squeal. There’d be time for that tonight, though. Right now, Steve just wanted to be inside his boy. 

“You’re beautiful, baby. Can’t wait to get in you.” The words slipped out of Steve’s mouth practically unbidden. He was glad they did, though, because they made Bucky shudder from his shoulders down to his knees. His cock was standing proud, the shaft a soft pink and the head beginning to turn an angry red.

“Steve?" Bucky asked softly, "Can I see the panties?”

The plea had Steve’s belly feeling warm, the cayenne syrup from earlier beginning to bubble and thrum like it was sitting at a low boil. “Yeah, Buck, of course. I wore them just for you, you know.”

Steve had never been one to deny Bucky what he wanted, so he dutifully stripped off his shirt, tossing it next to Bucky’s clothes on the bed. Judging by how it looked next to Bucky’s shirt, the one Steve had been wearing was almost certainly Bucky’s. The thought made Steve smile as he took off his socks and popped open the button on his jeans. He had been surrounded by Bucky all day, and he was about to be again, in more than one way.

Steve went over to Bucky, standing in front of him this time. He was hard in the panties, distorting the pretty raspberry lace a fair bit, but he still thought he looked nice.

Bucky certainly seemed to think so too. 

His eyes were locked on the line of the panties against Steve’s belly, his gaze soft and hungry. His mouth had fallen open in a small O-shape, and his lips were pink and soft. Steve wanted to kiss him again, but he didn’t want to rob Bucky of this moment, of getting to look at Steve and just feel overwhelmed. Steve felt the same while Bucky was changing, and he wasn’t about to take this away from his baby.

Bucky was clearly grateful for the opportunity. His hands made an aborted motion towards Steve’s hips, but he let them drop, instead making a soft sound in his throat that wasn’t quite a whine, but wasn’t far off either.

Steve loved being like this with Bucky. He almost always felt pretty around him, but rarely did Steve ever feel as  _ sexy _ as he did when he was wearing panties and Bucky was quite literally drooling from two separate locations. Just from being around Bucky, Steve felt wanted. When they fucked, he always felt desired, always felt beautiful (Bucky’s constant compliments did that to a guy). But here, now, standing in front of Bucky in just raspberry-colored lace panties, he felt like pure sex.

And he felt even better when Bucky licked his lips again and asked softly, like he was afraid his voice would break, “Could I see the back, please?”

Steve smiled. Bucky got so  _ polite _ when he was about to cry from arousal. His muscles were all tense again, his hands clenched into fists like he was avoiding touching his cock. Steve appreciated that -- he liked to be the one to make Bucky feel good when they were fucking -- but he also wanted to make sure his baby was doing okay. He didn’t want Bucky to hurt himself by being so wound up.

“Take a deep breath, relax, and then of course.”

Bucky nodded, inhaling through his still-open mouth and exhaling sharply, blowing some strands of his hair around his face.

“Great job, sweetheart,” Steve said sincerely, grinning when he saw how Bucky began to  _ beam _ and blush at the praise.

Now was time to turn around, give Bucky an in-person eyeful in addition to the virtual version. He smiled at Bucky one more time, and turned around, looking over his shoulder and arching his back.

Steve was rewarded by Bucky clapping his hands over his mouth, his eyes wide and excited. Steve glanced down and had to hold back an excited giggle when Bucky’s cock quite literally jumped in the air, without any sort of direct stimulation.  _ “Jesus, _ Stevie, the picture hardly did you justice. Can I touch?”

Steve smiled. He, too, was a sucker for praise. “Please,” Steve replied, surprised that his voice was so steady and not heady with arousal like Bucky’s was.

Steve could feel Bucky’s hands trembling as his fingertips came to rest on the swell of Steve’s ass. Bucky very gently traced the high cut of the panties, slipping his index fingers just inside of them and rubbing the seam. Steve shivered at the ticklish sensation, and that seemed to goad Bucky on.

“You look perfect,” Bucky said reverently. “I’m in love with you.”

Steve grinned and ducked his face into his own shoulder. “That’s a crazy coincidence; I’m in love with you, too.”

Bucky giggled and practically launched himself forward, grabbing handfuls of Steve’s ass in both hands and squeezing tightly like he just couldn’t help himself. He was kneading Steve’s ass like fucking bread, and it shouldn’t have been so hot, but it was.

Steve felt incredibly sexy, so beautiful and loved and perfect. Felt like he was practically soaring when Bucky leaned down and lightly kissed his spine, up and down the scar and the bumps of his vertebrae and Steve’s neck to his hair.

Here, Bucky paused. He buried his nose and exhaled noisily against Steve’s scalp. His hands were still resting on Steve’s ass, rubbing the seam of the panties gently with his thumbs. “You are so gorgeous. You take my breath away every fucking day, Steve. I wanna ride you, please.”

Steve smiled and leaned back to kiss the side of Bucky’s neck.

“You said you already stretched yourself, yeah?”

With that, Bucky pulled back, flushed pink even as his cock began straining harder. “Um, yeah,” he mumbled sheepishly.

Steve turned around and wrapped a hand around the back of Bucky’s neck, pulling him down far enough that Steve could kiss him without even having to stand on his tiptoes. They were forehead-to-forehead, nose-to-nose. Steve liked Bucky like this, close and safe. “How many fingers, baby?”

Bucky immediately exhaled sharply and tried to bend further to hide his face in Steve’s bony shoulder, but Steve carefully sidestepped. Bucky was still more than in proximity, so that they were still touching, but now he couldn’t hide his face, especially if he was feeling shy. Steve could never resist looking at Bucky when he was shy; he always became sweet and red and tactile and Steve loved it.

Bucky was now all of that, as well as fidgeting and panting. His hard cock had become nearly purple.

Steve loved how sensitive and bashful Bucky got when he asked him questions like that, questions that were simple, more out of safety than anything else. Still, though, they made Bucky look like he was about to come right there. Really, Steve had just been checking in, but it had the effect of turning Bucky on practically to incoherence. It turned Steve on too. Bucky’s way of asking for consent was unreasonably hot, but Steve doing the same thing  _ to _ him instead of being on the receiving end was so much better because instead of just getting hard like Steve did, Bucky got  _ desperate. _ Sweet thing was clenching and unclenching his fists like that would help Steve read his mind.

“Two,” Bucky murmured after a long moment. He licked his lips, and  _ fuck, _ did Steve want to make out with him for a while. But, ultimately, that would have just prolonged the amount of time before Steve got some relief to his aching dick, so he put the thought aside.

Instead, Steve nodded at Bucky. Two was okay. Steve would give him a little bit more to make sure Bucky was happy and safe, but two was a great start. Steve told Bucky so, kissing him through the full body shudder he released at the praise.

“Lean on the bed for me,” Steve told Bucky, grabbing the nearly forgotten lube. Steve dripped some onto his fingers, rubbing it around a little so it was warm -- Bucky hated cold lube to the point that it made him lose his erection. He said it reminded him too much of a prostate exam. Steve would never let Bucky be uncomfortable if he could help it.

Meanwhile, Bucky had flopped forward onto the bed, his head pressed into the mattress, hair scattered and wild since Steve still needed to put it in a ponytail, legs wide. The position naturally spread Bucky open.  _ Christ,  _ Steve would never get over that sight. Behind all the hard muscle and height and body hair that Steve loved was such a sweet, sensitive, vulnerable place.

The skin around Bucky’s delicate hole was a little pink and puffy, a byproduct of Bucky fingering himself, but it was loose enough that Steve figured Bucky’d be ready to go in no time. Steve put his clean hand on Bucky’s hip. He startled a little but relaxed once he realized it was just Steve.

“You’re really gorgeous here, Buck. Everywhere else, too, but here . . .” Steve blew out a low whistle, delighted by the way Bucky shoved his face further into the blankets, arousal and embarrassment turning the tips of his ears red.

“Can I touch you, sweetheart?” It was all well and good to touch Bucky’s hip without him expecting it, but touching his hole was different. It was special. Sacred, almost. It was a place just for him and Steve, a place just for when they were alone and loving on each other. If Steve touched him there without explicitly asking, it would be like breaking some unspoken rule, not to mention Bucky’s trust. Steve would never, ever do that.

Bucky nodded as best he could with his head pressed into the striped duvet. “Please.”

Steve squeezed Bucky’s hip and gently pressed his middle finger to Bucky’s rim. It slipped in easily, so Steve added his ring finger too, rubbing Bucky’s hip through any discomfort. As good as fingering and fucking felt, stretching could be unpleasant, and Steve wanted Bucky to feel as comfortable and good as possible. His gentle touch was working; Bucky was canting his hips back slightly, just angling them more than anything.

Steve let his fingers work in deeper, rubbing on Bucky’s sweet spot that was almost second nature to find now. Bucky let out a squeak and started fisting the duvet in powerful hands. Steve smirked, and stretched his fingers lightly, scissoring just enough for it to be a comfortable fit to slide his index finger in alongside the others.

Bucky keened at the sensation, and fuck if that wasn’t a heady feeling. Steve was just touching his boy, albeit intimately, and Bucky was already gasping. He was always so sensitive to Steve’s fingers. The first time Steve had fingerfucked Bucky had been when they were just getting to know each other, back when Bucky was still getting his veterinary license. Bucky had screamed loud enough that a concerned neighbor had knocked on Steve’s door to make sure no one was dead.

Thankfully, they had their own house now, so Bucky could be as loud as he wanted. Steve loved his sounds, the soft, wet noises that came during intimate moments like this.

Even the slick sounds of the lube against Bucky’s rim were hot. They shouldn’t have been, seeing as it was kind of embarrassing and terrifyingly personal, but they were because this was Bucky’s body. He was panting and letting out little rough sounds with each brush over his prostate. Already, Bucky was starting to flush all over and groan when Steve pushed his fingers in, and Steve was barely doing anything other than brushing his prostate once in a while. God, Steve’s baby was sensitive.

Steve loved that about Bucky so much. For all Bucky was bigger and stronger and (arguably) tougher than Steve, he just  _ came apart _ in Steve’s hands. Even when Bucky topped every once in a blue moon, he’d come undone within seconds of getting inside Steve. Steve could just brush the back of Bucky’s neck the way he liked, and Bucky would be shaking within minutes. It was an insane power rush at the same time as it was painfully sweet.

Steve rubbed his fingers against Bucky’s prostate a little more, enjoying the way Bucky was gasping and pushing back. Steve was the one making Bucky feel so good, and Bucky trusted him so implicitly. It was precious, and stupidly hot when Bucky groaned, “Wanna ride you now.  _ Hnng  _ \-- now, please.”

Steve wanted to tease Bucky for his desperation, would have if it were any other time than about-to-have-sex-o’clock. But if he did it now Bucky would get bashful, the bad kind of bashful, and maybe he'd feel like Steve didn’t value his desperation and the trust he put in him. Which was the opposite of true. The trust Bucky gave Steve was immeasurably valuable. It was sexy and sweet and so, so vulnerable that it hurt if Steve thought about it too much.

“Of course, sweetheart. You feel stretched enough?” Bucky certainly felt stretched enough on Steve’s end, but it could never hurt to check in with the person who was actually planning on taking the not-inconsiderable cock up his ass.

“I’m good-” Steve interrupted Bucky with a firm rub to his sweet spot.  _ “-oh, yeah, _ I’m great.”

Steve gently retracted his fingers and took a step back. “Condom or no, Buck?” That was a great thing about being a monogamous, horny-as-fuck gay couple: condoms were optional. Steve loved sliding into Bucky bare, feeling Bucky tense and clench around him with no barriers, feeling himself shoot into his baby. Watch come drip down Bucky’s thighs while he blushed crimson. However, it was always, always Bucky’s choice. Not everyone, even someone as horny as Bucky, wanted come dripping down their legs every time they had sex.

“No condom, please,” Bucky said gently, shoving himself up so he was standing too. His legs looked a little shaky, and Steve was glad that Bucky was leaning against the soft bed in case he fell.

“Ok, sweetheart. Lemme go get ready, then.” Steve began to push the raspberry-colored panties down his slim legs, but Bucky put a hand on his wrist, stopping him.

“C-can you keep ‘em on? Please? Y-you don’t have to. They’re just so . . .” Bucky trailed off and wiped a hand against his sweaty forehead. “You look so  _ hot _ in them Stevie, going-” Bucky closed his eyes and shook his head. “Want it, please. You promised.”

Bucky was stammering and struggling to speak, poor thing. Steve pulled the panties back up, tucking the fabric around his obscene erection even if it ached to do so, and stepped forward, standing on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Bucky’s forehead. As tough as it was, Steve would always ignore his own arousal in favor of taking care of his baby.

“‘Course I can. Thank you for asking so nicely, love.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around Steve and hugged him tightly. Steve’s cock rubbed Bucky’s thigh through the panties, and it felt indescribably sweet, like cotton candy ice cream that made your teeth hurt from the sugar content. Fucking Bucky while wearing panties was something they’d done a few times before, and it never failed to make Bucky a moaning, pleasure-ridden, desperate  _ mess. _ Steve couldn’t wait.

The cayenne syrup in his belly was reaching a rolling boil, even if Steve had to yet have any stimulation on his cock other than grinding on Bucky’s leg for thirty seconds.  _ Fuck, _ Bucky  _ did things _ to Steve.

“Lemme get on the bed, okay?” Steve prompted when his own cock felt like it would fall off.

“Wait. Maybe w- Maybe we could do it on the chair?”

_ “Oh,”  _ Steve breathed in response. He had to clench his stomach to keep from coming right then and there, untouched.

Fucking on the chair was something they had  _ not _ done before. The innocuous blue wingback chair next to Bucky’s dresser had decidedly never been a sex thing. That was the chair Bucky paid their bills in. That was the chair where Steve curled up with a blanket and a book when he was coughing too bad to sleep and didn’t want to wake up Bucky. Where Bucky would sit and cry and let Steve love on him when he had to put down an animal. It was not a sex chair.

But Bucky wanted it to be, and his eyes were round and begging, and it wasn’t like Steve could just say  _ no _ to that.

“Okay, baby. Sure,” Steve whispered.

Bucky’s eyes immediately lit up, and he bent down to meet Steve in a searing kiss. Steve smiled into it, wrapping his arms around Bucky’s shoulders and letting Bucky lift him up so his feet were just barely hovering above the ground. Steve normally hated being picked up, but Bucky’s arms were warm and tight around his waist, and he seemed so genuinely aroused and excited and sweet that Steve couldn’t mind it if he tried.

Bucky pulled back after a minute and let Steve flop back into the armchair. The material was pleasantly rough and cool against his sweaty skin. Bucky had the best ideas.

That said, they’d have to be careful. Skinny as Steve was, with Bucky’s thighs on either side of him, it’d be a tight fit. Steve thought Bucky liked that, being as close and hot and heavy as possible. Still, Steve would have to make sure that Bucky didn’t rub his knees raw on the inside of the chair or anything.

“Pass me the lube?” Steve asked when he was comfortably seated. The smooth material of the panties felt good on his ass, and he shifted against the chair, liking the chill, glossy rub of them against his hole.

Bucky leaned down next to the bed and picked up the bottle, half-tossing, half-handing it to Steve. Steve grabbed it with one hand and rubbed Bucky’s outstretched wrist with the other. Bucky was already shaking, his cock drooling and his eyes soft and unfocused. He was feeling good, but he was also obviously worked up to the point of incoherence. It couldn’t hurt to check in.

“How’s my pretty baby feeling?” Steve asked, still rubbing Bucky’s wrist to slow him down, let him come back to himself and realize that he was safe. He could get so overwhelmed if Steve didn’t take moments like these to calm him down.

He didn't want a repeat of what had happened that time on their first anniversary. They’d tried to not leave the bed the entire day except for food, water, and going to the bathroom, but it had all ended by two in the afternoon with Bucky sobbing in Steve’s arms about how good he felt. It had been incredibly arousing for Steve, of course, but it also hadn’t been all that fun for Bucky. Sex was supposed to be fun for everyone; it wasn’t not really  _ sex _ at all if both parties didn’t enjoy it. Since then, Steve always took a moment whenever he needed to so he could slow Bucky down, to get him feeling less flooded with emotion.

“I’m good. Cock hurts,” Bucky mumbled, his cheeks somehow managing to color  _ more. _

Steve glanced down. Bucky’s head was purple, seeping precome at a constant rate, and his shaft was an angry crimson. Of course it hurt; Bucky had been hard for at least half an hour, including while he fingered himself, and the only relief he’d gotten in minutes was Steve cruelly squeezing his cock and a few rubs over his prostate.

“Let’s fix that, okay?” Steve squeezed Bucky’s wrist and pulled his own hand back, pumping a healthy amount of lube into his palm. With his dry hand, he tucked the panties under his balls.

Bucky emitted a high whine at that, and when Steve glanced up at him, he was looking almost panicked, blinking quickly and shifting from foot-to-foot. He was fidgeting, hands by his lower belly but never brushing his cock. He was clearly trying to avoid touching it even though Steve hadn’t ever said he couldn’t. Bucky wanted to wait for Stevie. What a thoughtful boy.

“You’re okay, Buck,” Steve soothed even as he hissed through his teeth and began to stroke his shaft, coating it with a copious amount of lube to make Bucky’s slide easier. “Just a sec.”

Steve stroked himself firmly two or three more times, smirking at the way Bucky’s breath kept catching every time Steve twisted his wrist on the upstroke.

“Whenever you’re ready, sweetheart,” Steve encouraged. He wiped the excess lube off in his stomach before patting the armrests like Bucky needed any more enticement to slot his legs on either side of Steve’s.

Bucky practically fell forward onto him, one hand gripping the back of the chair for balance, the other finding Steve’s shoulder, his collarbone, his neck, his hair. Bucky was touching Steve everywhere he could reach, the tip of his cock just lightly kissing Steve’s belly as he shifted his hips back and forth. It was the most sensation Bucky’d gotten in a good while, so it was no skin off Steve’s back to let Bucky rut up against him lightly.

It was admittedly a tight fit in the chair, but Steve was quickly realizing that he didn’t mind. Bucky’s knees pressing into Steve’s thighs and hips were hot and already starting to grow slick with sweat. Steve’s face was practically shoved into Bucky’s neck because if Bucky scooted back at all he’d risk falling. Steve would never, ever let that happen, so he wrapped his arms around Bucky’s back to keep him from tipping backwards.

Steve kissed Bucky’s flushed collarbones, where the skin was beginning to gleam with sweat. The sweat shouldn’t have smelled so good, but mixed with Bucky's cinnamon shampoo and Steve’s favorite lavender fabric softener that he used on their sheets, with Bucky bent over Steve like this, it was perfect. Bucky was perfect.

Steve was so lucky.  _ He _ was getting to date, to live with, to  _ love _ Bucky. His best friend who liked watching Star Wars while Steve pet his hair and fed him popcorn. Who sent Steve pictures of every single animal he gave a check-up to. Who baked doggie treats every Sunday so every puppy could be sent home with one if they had to get a shot. Who cried when Steve made him feel too good. Who never failed to make Steve laugh. Who liked to sit on the couch in some kind of pretzel formation until their cat needed pets, and then he’d always move to the floor to pet her. Steve’s Bucky.

The amount of love Steve felt for him was overwhelming, making Steve feel choked in his throat and chest and hot behind his eyes. Steve stroked Bucky’s back gently, squeezing Bucky’s ass on his way down.

Bucky’s hair was hanging in a tangled curtain, brushing Steve’s forehead, and Steve wanted to tell him to go put it up so it didn’t turn into an even messier rat’s nest, but Bucky interrupted Steve with a soft whine.

“I’m ready, I think,” Bucky murmured, bending down and planting an unfairly sweet kiss to Steve’s hair. Even moaning and panting, Bucky took the time to kiss Steve. God, Steve was a  _ goner _ for his baby.

“Okay, Buck. There’s no rush.” Of course, there was a rush in the sense that Steve and Bucky were both hard enough to burst, but in terms of Bucky’s comfort or whatever time he needed to adjust, there was none.

Bucky moved his hand from the back of the chair and reached behind himself for Steve’s cock, but Steve shooed him away with a quick squeeze to his wrist. “I got it,” Steve promised, tilting his hips forward and grabbing the base of his shaft.

He let the tip stroke up Bucky’s crease, smiling lopsidedly when he caught Bucky’s taint and Bucky’s grip on Steve’s shoulder grew white-knuckled.

In response, Steve leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Bucky’s sternum. That was one thing Steve truly loved about his height: when Bucky was riding him, he was at the prime level for kissing Bucky’s heart.

Steve carefully fit his head to the edge of Bucky’s rim and stifled a groan at the sensation. As long as Bucky had gone untouched, Steve had too, and just that bit of extra feeling from Bucky’s rim was about to set Steve off. The cayenne syrup was about to boil over, and Steve had barely even gotten in his boy. He exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to calm down even as he lifted his hips just an inch more so his head was lodged in Bucky’s warm, wet hole.

“Good?” Steve asked, panting through gritted teeth. As much as Steve loved Bucky, the caveman part of his brain would never feel anything better than this, than Bucky’s hot ass beginning to clench around his cock. Pleasure was making Steve tense everywhere, but he consciously loosened his muscles and tilted his head up to look at Bucky.

Bucky’s eyes were clenched shut, his mouth hanging open. “Good,” Bucky gasped. He began to let his thighs relax as he lowered himself fully.

To Steve, it felt amazing. Slow and hot and tight, a slide infinitely better than anything Steve could ever replicate because it was  _ Bucky, _ his wet sounds as he lowered himself down, his sharp breaths, his little squeak when the backs of his thighs made contact with the tops of Steve’s. Steve was making Bucky squeak like that, making him thunk his head on Steve’s forehead, panting softly.

His breath was warm on Steve’s face, coming quick because of the arousal, but steady and even. Steve ran his hands over Bucky’s sides and Bucky keened, pressing into the touch. The unconscious gesture tilted Bucky’s ass back and changed Steve’s angle within him. Steve’s cock was clearly pressing right up against Bucky’s prostate now, because Bucky’s breaths were quickening and he was making loose, unhinged sounds, rocking back and forth without moving much at all. His eyes were shut tight and he was making quiet sounds that weren’t far from sobs.

In other circumstances, Steve would have been worried, but now he knew how Bucky got when he was feeling really good. He'd known ever since he made Bucky cry twice the first time he ate him out, Bucky barely moving at all except to pitch his hips back into Steve’s touch while letting loose wet, aroused noises into a pillow. Steve had stopped immediately after Bucky started to sob, rushing to let Bucky calm down before resuming, but it only resulted in Bucky crying harder and trying to explain that he was just feeling good and he didn’t mean to scare Steve like that.

Now Steve knew Bucky’s tells better than he did his own, and was sure that Bucky’s careful rocking and choked noises were signs that he was nearing pure bliss rather than freaking out.

“Glad you’re feeling good,” Steve said smugly, one of his hands coming over to rest on Bucky’s stomach, below his belly button but well above his cock.

“So-” Bucky cut himself off to tilt his head back and gasp. “So good,  _ oh!”  _ Bucky’s eyes, already closed, were now scrunched tight as if he'd just turned on the lights after laying in the dark for hours. He was still just grinding back on Steve, hardly even moving, but he was already nearing incoherency.

Steve wasn’t getting too much stimulation himself other than the greedy way Bucky’s hole clenched and loosened around Steve’s cock, but Steve didn’t mind. He was so keyed up that the gentle sensation would probably be enough to make him come anyway.

Besides, Bucky was clearly feeling incredible. When that was happening, Steve’s own arousal didn’t seem to matter so much. Steve could feel Bucky’s thighs beginning to go slick with sweat on the outside of Steve’s hips as he rocked back and forth , making himself feel even better. It was sticky and a little itchy, but Steve didn’t mind as long as he was close to his sweetheart.

Bucky looked so beautiful. As much as Steve loved Bucky sleepy and sprawled on the bed or wearing his work clothes or swathed in a towel after a shower, this, Bucky in the throes of pleasure, was Steve’s favorite sight. The Grand Canyon at sunset could bite Bucky’s round ass for all Steve cared. Bucky’s cheeks were Steve’s favorite shade of pink, his grip on Steve’s shoulder white-knuckled, his cock nearing the color of Steve’s panties.

“You look so pretty like this,” Steve mumbled, kissing Bucky’s sternum again and running his hands up and down Bucky’s sides, his muscled back, the dimples on his sacrum, the crease where his thighs met his ass. Bucky was so sensitive there to the point where he once jumped and burned his finger while making dinner when Steve suddenly poked the delicate spot.

Knowing how sensitive Bucky was there was working to Steve’s advantage now, as he rubbed the crease and watched Bucky’s cock literally jump, the head nearly slapping Steve’s forearm where it was positioned in front of Bucky’s hip. “It’s a lot, huh, baby? That’s a special place, yeah?” Steve prompted.

“It  _ tickles, _ okay?” Bucky said through a pitiful moan.

Bucky clenched up somehow more before his thighs shuddered and he slid forward until he was fully seated, pressed chest-to-chest with Steve.

Steve gasped and hissed at the sudden movement and resulting increase in sensation on his cock. He moved his hands away from that little spot on Bucky’s ass, shifting to just being planted on the front of Bucky’s thighs, resting there and squeezing. Bucky was sweating, his skin burning to the touch, but Steve couldn’t have minded less. The unpleasant tacky sensation was meaningless; it was just a product of Bucky’s pleasure, and therefore more than fine by Steve.

Bucky, meanwhile, was obviously feeling great too. He had opened his eyes, his pupils were blown wide, his lips trembling. He was grimacing, but by the way he was already starting to lift up and sit himself down, Steve was pretty sure that the expression was one born of pleasure rather than discomfort.

“You,  _ ah, _ feel great. Touch-” Bucky cut himself off as he threw his head back again and practically screamed a sound so choked and broken Steve just  _ had _ to bend forward and kiss Bucky’s heart again. It was beating wildly under Steve’s lips, and he tried to soothe it with sloppy, gentle attempts at kisses.

Steve was feeling good. Bucky was everything Steve would ever need. His cock was being squeezed, tight and burning. It felt like sinking into a hot bath after coming in from bone-chilling cold. It was relaxing and sweet and so, so sexy. Every time Bucky pitched his hips up and sank back down, Steve’s breath caught.

It was just a hot, wet press, one that Steve had never felt as pleasantly. He’d fucked people before Bucky, but, God, Steve hoped he never had to fuck anyone else after him. Who else would make Steve’s cock feel like it was humping into a velvet, iron-boned grip, like it would absolutely fall off if he didn’t come within half an hour of getting inside? Who else would make Steve go practically insane with the need to come and make the other person come? Who else would be  _ looking _ at Steve like this, even as they each chased their own orgasms?

Bucky was staring at Steve like he hung the moon, like he was so much more than a skinny, asthmatic barista who burned water when he tried to cook and sometimes kicked Bucky in his sleep. Bucky was looking at Steve the same way Steve felt about Bucky: like if anything ever hurt him, his own world would just end.

God, Steve loved him.

“Love how good you feel --  _ ahhhh,  _ yes, baby, _ perfect  _ \-- around me. Like you were made for me,” Steve hissed through Bucky’s hurried ministrations.

“Wanna make --  _ unnn, ohhh  _ \-- you feel good,” Bucky squeaked. It wasn’t quite a response, but Steve got the idea that his sentiment was being reciprocated.

Bucky’s hole was making slick, soft sounds against Steve. There was something so reverent about those noises, just like there was something reverent about the way Bucky was sliding up and down and groaning. He was barely able to form words, just a few gasps of “want it” and “yes” and Steve’s name managing to escape his lips. They were cherry red from him biting them feverishly.

Steve himself couldn’t stifle the little  _ “oh, _ yeah, baby”s and the “yes, yes, Buck, perfect”s. Steve felt like he was sinking into that hot bath, pleasure getting him everywhere, embedding itself behind his knees and in his fingertips and the arches of his feet and the scar on his spine.

He was buzzing, crackling with arousal and love and want. Bucky was making Steve absolutely come apart. Steve’s belly was hot and coiling, his legs involuntarily squeezing together somehow tighter. Every action, every rock and thrust were soaked in sweat and dribbles of lube. It should have been gross, but it wasn’t.

It couldn’t have been gross because this was Steve’s Bucky, conveying to Steve that he loved him through every movement he made.

Bucky must have felt Steve’s legs jump, and was now crowing, chanting, really, “Come, come, Stevie, come inside me. Mess me --  _ hnng,  _ oh,  _ God  _ \-- mess me up. Make me feel good. Wanna  _ drip.” _

The coil in Steve’s belly twisted beyond a point of no return with hardly a breath. The cayenne syrup boiled over, burning Steve so, so pleasantly. Steve could barely form a “Buh-” before he was coming hard into Bucky’s ass, still grinding gently against him.

It was hard and hot and so, so amazing. His eyes were squeezed shut so hard that he was seeing little white spots, his hands clenched into fists even as they gripped Bucky’s thighs, leaving little purple marks. He felt like he was floating, like his feet were a hundred feet off the floor, like his soaked panties were hovering above the rough fabric of the wingback chair instead of grinding into it with every movement.

Mostly, though, Steve felt like something was exploding in his core, his very being, something that couldn’t be contained if he tried. It might have been his orgasm, it might have been his overwhelming love, it might have been some delicious cocktail of the two. Either way, within five seconds of tensing every muscle he had and some he wasn’t even conscious of, the explosion dissipated, leaving Steve utterly spent, exhausted.

Steve thunked his head forward against Bucky’s sternum, his jaw clenched as Bucky rode him through the aftershocks. Steve could feel his come start to dribble out of Bucky, distinct from the lube already running down with how sticky it was. It dripped onto Steve’s own balls, down his taint, thoroughly ruining his new panties as though the lube on them hadn’t done enough.

Bucky was shuddering, too, and Steve used what little wherewithal he had left to move his hand from Bucky’s thigh to circle his painfully hard cock. Bucky emitted a sound like was suddenly being stabbed when Steve twisted his wrist and rubbed at the frenulum.

“Shhh, Buck, I know. You’re okay,” Steve murmured into Bucky’s pec. He gently lapped at Bucky’s pink, pebbled nipples with a flick of his tongue and that was all it took.

Bucky squeaked again, a soft, sweet, pathetic attempt at a sound that made Steve nearly ready to go another round. “Stevie,” he said, voice tight, before he was releasing all over Steve’s belly and chest. He was still clenching and groaning around Steve’s softening cock. The overstimulation hurt like an exposed nerve or like new skin under a scab, but Steve couldn’t have minded less.

He had never been one to deny Bucky any sort of pleasure when they were fucking, so Steve just grit his teeth until Bucky’s hips slowed to a stop. When he was spent, Bucky bent forward, forehead resting on Steve’s like it had been when Bucky first straddled Steve, as if nothing had happened.

Of course, their panting, the spend leaking out of Bucky and around Steve, and Bucky’s own jizz starting to go tacky on Steve’s ribs were enough evidence that  _ something _ had, in fact, occurred.

Bucky moved a hand to press over Steve’s sternum, and Steve leaned his head back so he could do the same with the hand that had been around Bucky’s cock. They stayed like that for a long moment, holding each other’s hearts in the palms of their hands as literally as they could. Coming down together. Loving each other.

Steve eventually moved his other hand from Bucky’s thigh to pet his hair. Bucky liked that when he was coming down. It relaxed him. Steve liked making sure Bucky was relaxed.

Bucky’s hair was a rat’s nest of epic proportions, just from the bouncing and the way it had gotten all sweaty on the underside.  _ “God, _ your hair is a mess, baby,” Steve said against Bucky’s collarbones since that was the part of Bucky closest to eye level for Steve.

Bucky laughed, a trembling, shaky mess of a chuckle that made Steve wince from the way it reverberated down his still-embedded-in-Bucky’s-ass cock. Bucky seemed to notice and shifted his hips back enough for Steve to slip out, soft and soaked with jizz and lube and sweat. “You’ll brush it out for me, yeah?” Bucky mumbled, kissing Steve’s forehead.

Despite his exhaustion, Steve rolled his eyes. He knew this was coming, but he had been too wrapped up in Bucky to pause and put Bucky’s hair up. Steve’s brains had been located directly between his legs rather than above his shoulders.

“I will,” Steve promised. “You gonna complain?”

Bucky laughed breathily. “You gonna make it hurt?”

Steve scoffed as dramatically as he could manage in his post-orgasm haze. “You’re lucky I love you,” Steve teased, exhausted.

Suddenly, Bucky’s palm was pressing harder, more insistently onto Steve’s chest. Steve looked up at him, confused at the tonal shift. Bucky’s eyes were fierce and focused, in complete and utter contrast to the sweat still beading on his collarbones and the flush on his cheeks and his wild hair.

“I  _ am _ lucky that you love me. So lucky.”

Bucky shifted himself back so much that Steve was worried he’d fall, but it was just to put himself at a proper angle to meet Steve in a messy, wet kiss that would have been gross if it had been any time other than post-coital declarations of love.

“Happy anniversary,” Bucky said firmly when he pulled back. “Four more years?”

Steve smiled, confident. “More like four billion. You ain’t getting rid of me, Barnes.”

“Don’t ever wanna,” Bucky agreed, meeting Steve for another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I have other ideas for these two, but who knows if I'll get around to them. Either way, I hope you liked it! Comments and kudos truly make my day!
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


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